


Sweet Nothing

by originofsymmetryy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual References, Swearing, how do u tag things on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:24:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originofsymmetryy/pseuds/originofsymmetryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot Bellamy/Clarke and admission of feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Nothing

*note: this is my first time writing fanfiction so if this is awful i am really sorry thanks*

 

 

 

 

“Why?” Clarke asks something like concealed hurt in her eyes. Bellamy has gotten used to reading her facial expressions and tone like with no one else.

“I-“ He stutters. _Good start, idiot._ Why _had_ he done it? He wants to go back and kick his past self in the balls for fucking up this, for fucking up them. Not that there really was a “them”, but if the past month had been any indication, things between them were beginning to change. In ways that make Bellamy's stomach roll.

Clarke had been back at Camp Jaha for nearly two months now after she had escaped Mount Weather (with Anya, to everyone’s incredulity) and together they had broken out the remaining Hundred. When he saw her trudging into the camp he had stopped still, unbelieving and not daring to hope that the girl in front of him was really who he thought it was. He remembered thinking he had been slipped hallucinatory jobi nuts again and was currently tripping balls. She had stared at him and then she had run, jumping up and throwing her arms around him. Bellamy could remember the way the sterile smell of Mount Weather still vaguely permeated her skin, the way her bushy hair got in his nose as he breathed in. He could feel the way her small soft body had been pressed against him. Bellamy had replayed that moment multiple times over and had only very recently figured out the depth of his feelings for her. Which were terrifying to say the least.

The weeks following their reunion had been tentative since that hug, but there were moments here and there where his heart would clench so much he thought he was having a coronary. Those moments made him dare to hope that she could maybe reciprocate at least 1/10 of his feelings for her, like when she had cleaned his wound when he’d been hit with a Grounder arrow to the shoulder. She had been so close to him then, expertly wrapping the bandage around his forearm, whilst he watched her out of his peripheral vision. Her hands, calloused but gentle, glided over him making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and his cheeks warm. There was an intimacy in her touch and Bellamy couldn’t tell if it was his mind making things up or whether she was feeling it too.

The touches between them; the hand on his back, a reassuring brush on her arm, a playfully nudge. He had even picked a stray leaf out of her hair mid conversation without thinking, and they had both gone red and promptly pretended nothing had happened. There had been nights sitting almost pressed together around the campfire where his heart had beat so fast but conversation came so easy to them. There was one time she had had too much moonshine and hugged him before giving him a peck on the cheek and stumbling her way to bed. Bellamy had felt that kiss down to his toes.

He hadn’t experienced this kind of attraction to anyone before. When he wanted a girl, he went for it. There was no gentle brushes on his arm, no smiles from across camp. He had never watched anyone but Clarke when she wasn’t looking. Hell, he hadn’t slept with anyone since because he was scared he would say Clarke’s name as he came, and that would be absolutely mortifying. He’d had to settle to jerking off again. How sad was that? He was 23 years old, he could get with most girls in Camp freaking Jaha if he wanted, and he was jerking off like a preteen with his first crush. Yet all he could think of how she would feel on top of him, how he would bury his head in the crook between her collar bones and her neck and feel her sigh into his mouth.

But of course the last person he had slept with was the reason he was in this whole mess.

Finn’s hand grabbed him by his shirt neck and slammed him against the Mecca station’s wall. Bellamy was admittedly taller and bigger than Finn, but he had been so taken aback that he had allowed himself to be shoved against the ship. “You slept with my _girlfriend?”_ Finn yelled at him.

Bellamy was speechless. “Finn look-“

He and Finn, although not really friends, had reached a grudging mutual respect for each other. After saving each other’s lives multitudes of times and generally having to band together against Kane’s dictatorship, Bellamy had even come to like the guy a bit. Of course, this alliance was tested when he saw the (increasingly rare, albeit) looks between Clarke and Finn that made his stomach tie in knots. He knew vaguely that something had happened between the two, if the way she had tried to cover up her hurt after Raven had arrived was any indication.

And now Finn was wrestling him against the ship. Because of Raven. God, how was he supposed to explain this. “Look, it’s not what you think-“ He began again.

In fact, it wasn’t what anyone would’ve thought. The whole thing with him and Raven had been the most disappointing thing of his life. He was hurt, she was there, Finn and Clarke had been gone together in the forest doing God knows what for hours. He hadn’t even finished he’d been so down, and Raven had left the minute it was over. It had meant nothing to either of them, but clearly that hadn’t been relayed to Finn.

Finn socked him in the jaw and stormed away. Bellamy was too surprised to feel the pain, just rubbed at his jaw and caught the eyes of the one and only Clarke Griffin. Standing not 10 ft away. She had heard the entire thing. Clarke gave him one of those looks – you know, the Clarke Griffin smoulder and the lip biting and there was no mistaking how her knuckles clenched together as she spun on her heal and headed towards the forest.

 _Shit, good one Blake._ Without thinking he trudged after her, pushing fern and branches out of the way and stumbling in the dark. He found her in a clearing.

“Clarke.” He was embarrassed how desperate his voice sounded. “Please.”

She spun around, startled. Her eyes, which he could see were filling with tears, bore into him. She flushed and jerked her gaze away. _Brave Princess_ , he’d once called her. Even now she didn’t want him to see her cry.

“Why?”

Bellamy floundered to find the words. _Was this really how he was going to tell her?_

“Clarke, it didn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.”

She stared at him, waiting for him to go on.

He pulled a hand through his hair in frustration. “You and Finn had been gone for hours. Raven didn’t know Myles was with you. We didn’t know. She was hurt.” He paused, staring at the forest floor. _To hell with it._ “I was hurt.”

He glanced up at Clarke, who hadn’t taken her eyes off him. She didn’t say a word. And he couldn’t stop himself.

“Clarke I – there’s no one here, no one but Octavia, that…… that I care about as much as you okay? I’m”, he took a deep breath in, looking fully at her now, not daring to break eye contact. “I’m in love with you. And I know I’m an asshole and this probably won’t work because we’re both leaders and you deserve a hell of a lot better-“

“Bellamy,” She says, taking a step closer to him, “shut up.”

And just like that first time after they’re reunited, she throws herself into his arms. Except this time his hands are cupping her cheeks and hers are around his neck and they’re kissing and everything is Clarke Griffin and Bellamy is 100% okay with that.


End file.
